


Let Us Be Brave

by Nevermourn



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
Genre: Light Torture, Paranoia, Short Chapters, but he actually turns out kinda nice, damnit oc why can't you see that, drug use (greenmote), everyone is literally telling you he's the best, it's the maniacs im telling you, no nsfw stuff, oc hates sheogorath, perfectly safe, sex is only referenced, she kinda has a good reason though, sheogorath starts off kinda like a bad guy, there are naked people in this though but no detail
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-18 07:11:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17576270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevermourn/pseuds/Nevermourn
Summary: It was his fault, I knew it was the moment my father told me. My little sister, so tiny, struggling to survive; she wouldn't have made it. It was only right that my father pray to the gods for their intervention. But then He came. He ruined it. Sheogorath had tricked my father into selling my soul to save my sister.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I really don't know if I'll ever finish this, but I'll give it a shot. Comments and Kudos are appreciated as it lets me know if people are liking my story. 
> 
> Keep in mind there may be some things in this story you don't agree with. I've taken my own personal take on Sheogorath. If you prefer evil and mean Sheogorath, this story isn't for you. At least not in the later chapters.

I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. I wanted to scream. I wanted to fight. But my mind was not my own anymore, it was His, and my own body refused to obey my commands. 

It was his fault, I knew it was the moment my father told me. My little sister, so tiny, struggling to survive; she wouldn't have made it. It was only right that my father pray to the gods for their intervention. But then He came. He ruined it. Sheogorath had tricked my father into selling my soul to save my sister. Now one would live without the other, for eternity. That was our fate, as decreed by the Madgod. And I was to be banished into Sheogorath's realm as a servant, and a reminder. I didn't want to go when He came to take me. I saw my parents tears. My sister, too young to know my name, but she would never forget this day. He burned it into our minds, and though I struggled, I knew it to be no use. A life for a life. That was the rule, after all. 

Sheogorath stood over me, taking my hand in his. It was almost gentle. Did he expect to be welcomed in my presence? I snarled at him in protest, but I still could not move. Then I felt it. Him. Gnarled tendrils of madness creeping through my body, wrapping around my mind in coils. If I were capable of stabbing him in that moment, I would have. I didn't want to be His. I wanted to be mine! 

I thought for a moment that I was being selfish. My father had not asked me if I wanted to exchange my soul for the life of my fragile sister, but should he have? Was it wrong to wish death upon my kin to save my own soul? The thought stung like thorns piercing unguarded skin. Perhaps I should be grateful that Sheogorath restored my sister's health, that she would go on to be a fine and healthy woman. Would she look back upon this memory and think me a hero? I gritted my teeth. I couldn't help but hate my father for damning me to the Shivering Isles, and I could not stop the jealousy that came with thinking of my sister's future. She'd get to grow up normal, and happy.

I knew it was wrong. I was already an adult. I had already had my childhood. In a way, it was my fault. I should have moved away, far from Cheydinhal where I might have been safe. But it was too late now. 

I found that I could move again. Sheogorath had released me, though I could still feel his influence lingering amidst my thoughts. It was almost as if he was...listening. 

The Madgod turned, snake-like eyes flashing with mirth as he offered a cunning little grin. By the Nine, he was in my thoughts! Already, he knew too much, and I hated him for it. 

"Awww, you wound me, lass!" His voice was intolerable, chipper in a way that inspired false comfort. I turned to my sobbing father, and tried to run to him. A hand on my shoulder held me fast, too powerful to fight.

"Let me say goodbye!" I growled in demand, glaring at Sheogorath with all the hatred I could muster. "If you're going to take me away forever, then let me say goodbye!" My insistence only seemed to amuse the Daedric Prince. 

"Oh no, no no no, can't do that. We haven't the time! Better to forget them, lass! I could help with that, you know..." Those cold, evil little fingers creeping into my mind again...

"No! Stop it! Don't you dare you..." How to insult a madgod? "Stupid, heartless bastard!" Sheogorath smirked, snatching my wrist again to drag me closer.

"Big words for one so tiny." He commented with amusement. And then, in a flash of purple, we were gone. 

I felt sick. The world was spinning around me. Sheogorath had released me, stepping away, it sounded like, and I managed to open my eyes. Carved stone and intricate tapestries of crimson and violet adorned the grand room where a massive throne sat elevated upon finely crafted steps. I knew instantly where I was. It was easy enough to figure it out, when I saw the Madgod ascending to his throne, his expression coldly regal. 

It hit me before I could stop it. I collapsed to the bi-colored rug beneath my feet and sobbed. I was there for some time. Nobody bothered me, though I could feel them staring, the Madgod and the older looking man dressed in classy black and red clothing. The glimmering Golden Saint and noble Dark Seducer guards that I had managed to catch sight of before my breakdown. They were watching and I hated it. Hated them. Hated Him. 

Wiping my eyes with the sleeve of my faded green robe, I dared to look up at the mad lord on his throne. We locked eyes for an instant, the deep, molten brown of my gaze captured by serpentine orbs of royal gold. 

A smile danced across Sheogorath's lips, appearing almost friendly, but I knew the snake beneath it all, the wolf in the wool. His expression infuriated me to the point that I found myself standing once more, stalking toward the silver haired Daedra with a snarl. 

"If you think I'll just lower my head and...and-" My voice rose in volume, my fury echoing through the large room. "-serve you like some dog, then you are wrong! I will NEVER serve you, Madgod! You took everything from me!" I stared him straight in the face, though I could not match his gaze, as intense as it was. I felt a chill crawl up my spine as he leaned forward, his smile never wavering. 

"Not everything..." There was a threat in his dark tone, and I immediately regretted my words. He wouldn't go after my family, would he? The Madgod's cruel smile widened, and I had my answer, as horrifying as it was. Maybe it was a bluff. Maybe...maybe he wouldn’t actually hurt them. But I had to believe, for their safety. 

"Haskill here will be showing you to yer room. Try not to get lost, _little one._ " I didn't like the way his voice could shift so quickly, so dramatically, from happy and carefree to vicious in an instant. I didn't stop glaring at him, though, until I felt a light touch upon my arm. 

"If you would be so kind as to follow me, I can get back to more important duties." The voice was bored, and I turned to meet dark eyes that held little emotion. It was the man in the red and black. Haskill. 

He led me behind the throne, through a wooden door that creaked when it opened, and into a garden like no other I had ever seen. Shrubs that bloomed with pink and purple flowers rustled in the light, pleasant smelling breeze. A massive fountain sat in the center of deep, moss colored grass, water whispering in a therapeutic voice. 

I was led through another doorway, and into a hall. The smell of food stimulated my stomach as it growled with hunger. Haskill didn't seem to notice, or simply didn't care. He led me to one of the far ends of the hallway, where a large room was divided only by curtains. 

On the far right of the room was a kitchen, and on the left, four small beds, each one tucked in the privacy of the drapes. 

"You are free to choose out of the three empty beds, but do so quickly. I've got work to do, and it's rather more important than dragging you around, I'm sure." Confusion slipped through my thoughts before I registered that the bed nearest to me belonged to Haskill. I slipped deeper into the room, choosing the bed in the far right corner. It felt cozier. 

"Very well, then. Help yourself to the food here, and try to get some sleep. I suspect you'll need it." And with that, Haskill was gone, leaving me to the shadows.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note that names are not...traditional. I mean like, bretons might not have a breton name, and khajiit might not have khajiit names. Fair warning.

A nightmare. My father, staring, teary eyed and desperate, words of regret upon his tongue. But he couldn't move, and neither could I. We were frozen in time, staring at one another with the cruel overseer that was madness driving our torment. I missed him, his name leaving my lips as little more than a whisper that pierced my heart and brought tears streaming down my cheeks. Something warm slipped into my thoughts, the dream shifting in a flash of dark, lavender light. And then it was all gone, swept away by a peaceful flood of darkness. How strange. 

I peeled my eyes open to find warm firelight dancing across dark stone walls, and I remembered it all. It hurt like the venom of a snake bite, and for some time, tangled in soft sheets, I simply cried. 

What new horrors awaited me today? What nightmare would the Madgod force me into? A small voice in my head told me that I was being over-dramatic. I was to be a servant, after all, not a subject of torture. Still, I felt like a prisoner, even with the silky beds and the lavishly decorated room. I didn't want to be here and he knew it. He didn't care. 

I finally managed to peel myself away from the comfort of the blankets, naked feet slapping against warm stone. The atmosphere was safe and inviting, but I knew better. 

Cautiously, I moved through the room, fighting back the curiosity that drove me until I could no longer. Near to my bed, hidden behind scarlet curtains, was a steaming bath of deep blue glass. A violet flame flickered beneath the elevated pool, fueled by magicka. In that instant, I felt suddenly dirty. The remnants of tears made my pale skin sticky. I wanted to bathe in this wonderful, magic tub, but I had not been given the option of packing. I only had the emerald robe upon my back, and the worn leather shoes that sat by my bed. 

"If a bath is what you're considering, I suggest taking a look in your drawers. I believe what you'll find will be most satisfying." 

The bored voice of Haskill made me jump. I hadn't even noticed him, and by the time I turned to lay my eyes upon his slender frame, he was already in the process of leaving the room. 

I returned to my bedside, staring at the drawers for a moment before I could bring myself to look through them. Clothes, finely crafted, colorful robes and vivid dresses. All for me. What game was the Madgod playing? The sight infuriated me, and I slammed the drawers closed, stomping past the bath and towards the kitchen. 

For a moment, I entertained the idea of food. My hand trembled when I lifted it, and my stomach ached. I knew I was hungry, but that would be exactly what Sheogorath would want. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. I'd starve myself to death before pleasing that sick bastard. 

Throat dry from thirst and my stomach protesting every step, I slipped out into the shadowed hallway. There were five other doors along the path to the garden, and the voice in my head was urging me to explore them. I didn't plan on working, so a good look around seemed like a pleasant alternative. 

The first door revealed a dining room. To the far right of the room was a long stone table, delicately carved with swirling designs. There were only two chairs, each on the far ends of the slab. 

To the left of the room was a smaller table, not quite so beautiful and fitted with four cushioned chairs. There were already dishes sat upon scarlet napkins, though no food was in sight. The rest of the room was made up by cupboards and other storage devices. There were a few displays in the corners, busts of the Madgod and statues of some sort of amphibious looking creature. There was little else to see.

In the second room was a small, interior garden of mushrooms and strange plants that glowed bright orange, though some shone blue. Alchemy apparatuses filled the tables around the garden, and a shrine to Sheogorath adorned the far right wall. Briefly, I wondered if the looney fool prayed to himself. He seemed like the type that would. 

The third door revealed a room dedicated to glass displays. Weapons of incredible craftsmanship glittered in the firelight, and glossy armor aligned enclosed shelves. I couldn't help but stand there admiring each separate piece. Just one of the many items in the room was likely worth more gold than I had ever spent in my lifetime. I toyed with the idea of stealing them, but I knew it would be foolish. Most of them looked far too heavy than anything I could hope to lift, and where would I put them, if I had no knowledge of the merchants in this world? 

There was a dagger, though, small and sharp as any fine blade. I ran my fingers across the glass case, finding that it was unlocked, and, lifting the lid, wrapped my hand around the metal hilt. It didn't look like any sort of metal I had ever seen, and the blade was carved with strange, laughing faces. 

The thought of murder came to mind, something I had never dared to entertain before, but he deserved it. He destroyed my life. I didn't know if a Daedric Prince could be killed, but I figured that it was worth a try. I didn't fear death anymore. It would surely be better than serving Sheogorath. For the moment, though, I had no opportunity, so I placed the dagger back in its velvet display case, and closed the glass lid.

The final, third room, had a larger door than the rest. I understood why when I brushed the door open to find a massive bedroom. A huge statue of Sheogorath towered over a grand bed of gold, lavender, and crimson sheets. The entire place screamed royalty, and I quickly understood that this room belonged to the Madgod himself. For just a moment, I tried to imagine a Daedric Prince sleeping, but it didn't seem right. Still, there was a bed here, surely it was used? 

The thought brought back images of the dagger. The madgod...sleeping. Vulnerable. I knew my hate was blinding me, making me irrational, but I didn't care anymore. Had Sheogorath slumbered here peacefully while I had struggled with fitful dreams? Bastard. 

I left the room with a frown and some manner of determination driven by sheer rage alone. Sheogorath would regret allowing me to rest so close to his bedside. There weren't even any guards in this wing of the palace, and I was certain that I could slip by Haskill in the dark of the night. That settled it, then. When next the Madgod chose to rest, he would soon find one of his own blades piercing his heart.

There was nothing else to explore in the royal wing of the palace, so I headed back into the garden to gaze at the exotic plants that released such pleasant scents. Mushroom trees similar to those found in Morrowind cast shadows over the white marble fountain, cooling the hot, humid air. There were stone benches sitting against the fountain, and I picked one out that was bathed in light, though strangely, I could see no sun in the sky. The surface was smooth and warm, and I found myself feeling almost instantly relaxed. I had always enjoyed laying out in the sun, soaking in the heat that most others despised. With nobody around to watch me let my guard down, I figured that I deserved some manner of pleasure. I was lulled by the peaceful trickling of water as I sprawled against the stone where I allowed myself to rest for just a minute before my stomach reminded me that I had not eaten since the evening before. 

Sighing, I pushed the pain to the back of my mind and stood again. I wasn't ready to face the Madgod, but the only way out was through the throne room, and I had little desire to sit on my bed for the rest of the day. As far as I knew, it was still morning, though I had no idea how to tell time here in the Isles. The sky looked unreal. 

Steeling myself with a heavy breath, I made my way to the door to the throne room, and slipped inside, creeping around the massive tree that shadowed the throne. I didn't even look at him as I swept past, dashing for the first door I could reach. When I finally managed to regain my composure, I examined the new area to find all manner of reds and oranges decorating the room. An Argonian, a Nord, and a High Elf sat at a large table, enjoying what was likely breakfast. They didn't even look up at me as I entered, just kept eating, reminding me of just how hungry I was. After a minute, the Argonian lifted her head to cast her reptilian gaze upon me. 

"Are you here to see Thadon? I would be, if I were you. Luckily, I have plenty of reasons to talk to Thadon every day! He's a remarkable man. Truly, an absolute genius!" There was such love in her tone. I wasn't sure which of them was Thadon, but I felt like the finely dressed elf at the head of the table was likely the subject of conversation. He had his nose stuck in some book, idly munching on some kind of fruit, ignoring the world around him. 

"N-no...sorry. I'm just looking around." I hated how weak my voice sounded, but the argonian didn't seem to mind. 

"Ah, you must be one of the new servants! Don't be nervous, little one. You're going to love it here! Sheogorath is as kind as a flower. If flowers could be kind, I mean. My name is Wide-Eye, by the way. Why don't you come and sit with me?" She patted the cushioned chair next to her with a scaled hand, but I just stood there and stared for a moment, not sure what to do. Run? Obey? She seemed nice...nicer than Him, despite her claims that he was...kind. Ridiculous. But perhaps that was the goal. They were all servants of the madgod, were they not? For a moment, I thought about fleeing the palace, but then another thought came to mind. What if he was trying to drive me mad with paranoia? Force me into a state of mind where nobody could be trusted? 

"Come now, little one, I won't bite. Unless you want me too, of course." The argonian...winked at me. What? I moved to sit beside her, and she smiled a toothy grin. I was unsettled, but I didn't show it. 

"It's nice to meet you, Wide-Eye." I stated quietly. "My name is Shayera. Breton, but you probably...figured that out." My cheeks heated red, and I gulped. 

"You really should relax, you know. Why don't you eat something?" I frowned, shaking my head as the argonian poked an unknown food with a claw. 

"I'm not hungry." I lied, still persistent on starving myself to death if only to irk the Madgod. Wide-Eye hummed for a moment, as if considering something. 

"Alright. But you simply must try this." She lifted a slimy substance from a clay bowl. It glowed an emerald hue, and looked absolutely disgusting. "It's called Greenmote, and you won't regret trying it, I assure you." She held the ooze toward me, and I shook my head."Oh but you must, little one. It's a gift from our precious Thadon. There's nothing else like it in all the realm! If you do anything else today, it will be nothing in comparison to this moment." She sounded so sure, her voice so insistent. How could I refuse, and let her down? 

I took the foul looking greenmote into my hand, and slid it into my mouth. The taste was sweet, but the texture of it made me want to vomit. Still, I managed to swallow it down, and then everything changed. The world swirled with color unlike anything I had ever seen. I felt invulnerable. I felt like I could fly. Sheogorath was lost, forgotten. I knew only the pleasure of the moment, and the desire for more. I reached for the bowl holding the green treasure, but something held me back. A hand, I realized, scaly, and a voice...smooth like fresh glass. I don't remember much after that.

I woke up in the grass of a garden not unlike the one in the royal wing, but smaller, and without a fountain. The air was cooler than it had been before, the light darker. Was it...dusk? Sitting up, I saw Wide-Eye nearby, resting in a silver chair while Thadon painted a foot away. The moment she noticed I had awakened, she smiled. 

"Ah, I was wondering how long you'd rest, given how much energy you spent. You are quite the dancer! It's been so long since I've had the pleasure of such a dance." My eyes widened at the argonian's words...dancing? I had danced? 

"What?" My voice came out small, non-believing. The humanoid lizard chuckled. 

"You don't remember? Don't worry, tolerance will come with time." Her voice was soothing, but I was horrified. I had...danced? With these maniacs? Sheogorath must have been beside himself with laughter! Anger boiled through my veins as I rose to my feet.

"I can't believe you gave that...that drug without telling me what it was first!" My tone was sharp, clearly furious. Wide-Eye clearly looked confused. 

"But...I did tell you what it was. I told you it was greenmote!" It was true. I remembered that. But she hadn't told me what it would cause. 

"That wasn't enough!" I snapped back, seething. I didn't give her a chance to reply. I ran, fled the house of Mania, dashing through the throne room so I wouldn't have to see his gods damned smirk or the satisfaction in his eyes. I hated him, and now I hated her! I hated them all! I'd kill her too, if I knew where she slept. How dare she drug me! Argonian bitch! 

I ran to my bed, bundled myself in the blankets, screamed to the walls with hatred. I didn't even try to sleep. I simply seethed, and hated, and despised.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a short chapter.

Haskill was asleep. I had been watching for quite some time, thinking in silence, chewing at my own nails, denying myself food and bathing and fresh clothes to wait for my perfect moment. I was right about my being able to sneak past Haskill without issue. The old man simply snored as I passed, bare feet quiet with every step. The fires along the walls were out, and it was dark. Still I found my way to the display room, and then to the rich, earth colored dagger beneath reflective glass. Never in my life had I wanted to kill a man so badly. But Sheogorath wasn't a man. He was a snake. He deserved to die. I slipped my fingers along the hatch, popping the case open without a sound to lift the dagger from where it lay. It was a light blade, dark as mud. 

With the dagger held by my hip, I crept toward the Madgod's chambers with eyes shining with determination. I had no idea what I was going to do after Sheogorath was dead. The guards would probably rush in and kill me when morning finally reared its golden head. Haskill would be the first to notice, he'd know it was me. He'd turn me in like some faithful hound. He might even grieve. Disgusting. 

The door opened quietly, and I peered into the darkness. The soft glow of blue flowers cast jagged shadows around the room, but I couldn't see the body on the bed through the dark. 

Closer I moved, each step slow and precise. I didn't fear death, but I did fear failure. I was at the foot of the bed when I finally realized that it was empty. The only thing that registered in my mind was disappointment, before the door slammed shut behind me, and terror brought a scream to my lips as sudden hands gripped my shoulders, and spun me around to face the Madgod himself.

"You certainly make for an amusing little toy." Hot breath curled across my cheek as Sheogorath spoke in an amused tone that made me fear. A chuckle fell from his tongue, filling the atmosphere with dark humor. 

"Did ya really think you could just walk in, and stab me while I slept?" I didn't know if it was a serious question, or if he was mocking me. I didn't care. 

"If you're going to kill me, then do it." I managed to spit. His grip wasn't so strong that I struggled for breath as I tried to pull away. 

"Oh, I don't intent to kill ya lass! Where would the fun in that be?" Another question that didn't need an answer. Bastard. He was laughing again. Laughing at me. 

I reached out to him, slapping at his frame. I wanted to claw out those damned eyes, but his hands moved to capture my wrists, holding them in the air, still and solid, no matter how hard I struggled, until my breath came heavy.

"It hurts, doesn't it lass? The loss...you miss them." Did he plan to toy with me? Was he truly so much of a sadist that he would remind me of the torment he had caused? His voice even sounded concerned, like a father speaking to a child about nightmares. 

"I could take it away, you know, make it stop. You'd know nothing but happiness for the rest of your days. The pain...forgotten." He spoke almost cautiously. The devil wanted me to make a deal with him. He wanted my mind. The Madgod leaned closer, his influence suffocating as it slipped into my brain once more, tentative, as if asking for permission. 

"Get OUT of my HEAD!" I snarled at him, teeth flashing with rage. I wanted him dead! I wanted him to send me home, to leave forever! It wasn't fair! I never had a choice and it wasn't fair! 

Further he pressed into my head, like a warm blanket wrapping around my brain. I could feel the comfort in it, the desire for the happiness I could see within, and then it slipped away, and I could breathe again. I stared into his face, his expression oddly gentle, his piercing eyes intense upon my own, and screamed with fury. 

"Stop it! Stop playing with me! I am not a toy! I am a person with a family, with feelings! And you destroyed it all!" I couldn't keep his gaze. Those serpentine orbs felt like they were going to swallow me. Still, I resisted, trying to pull away. "You will NEVER have my mind!" Secretly, that was what I wanted, to forget it all, to know nothing but peace and joy, but I'd never give him the pleasure of that. Never. 

"You misunderstand, little mortal." Sheogorath spoke in a tone so suddenly dark I felt a chill in my spine. Gone was the cautious voice that had requested gentle permission to enter my mind. I was in the air for but a moment, and then against the wall, held by my arms as my legs dangled beneath me, so that I could be eye level to him. He knew his gaze was punishing. "I give you the choice out of pure courtesy alone." I knew it was true. He could take it if he truly wanted it. So why show such courtesy? I knew why. He wanted the torment to continue, and I wanted to run.

My wrists were released then, and the moment my feet touched the floor, I fled. I could feel his gaze on my back as I ran, bursting into the garden and away from him. I didn't care where, so long as he wasn't there. The throne room was empty when I sprinted through it, past the door to the house of mania and into the courtyard beyond. In the sky was a world like no other, swirling pinks and violets among glittering streams of stars. I never wanted to fly so badly, to escape. I slipped down the steps, having no idea where they led. That was when the guards stopped me, told me I wasn't allowed to leave the palace grounds, and then I hated them, too. 

I found a corner, small, quiet, dark, beneath a huge crystal of silver. I curled up in the grass there, unseen, and sobbed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Learning new things is fun! Light mention of sex in this chapter.

She was looking at me with a gentle gaze, so soft and yet so firm. The Dark Seducer had been the one to awaken me. I must have fallen asleep, and just the idea of moving was painful. Taking the beautiful daedra's dark, purple tinted hand, she helped me to my feet while my muscles screamed in protest. Everything ached. Just standing made me feel like I was on fire.

She was patient while I stretched, a gentle smile curling her lips. 

"My apologies for disturbing you at such an early hour, but it's going to rain soon. It would be unwise to continue sleeping here." Her voice was deep and raspy, and yet I could feel the nobility with every word. I didn't know how to respond, so for a moment, I simply stared. She had beautiful eyes of azure, unlike anything I had ever seen. 

"I...thank you." Finally, I managed to speak. The Dark Seducer guard didn't seem to mind the delay, but gestured me along with a hand. 

"Think nothing of it." She responded kindly.

"How early is it? I'm...new here. There's no sun." I figured since she was nice enough to warn me of the rain that she'd be willing to clear up the concept of time in this strange realm. 

"It is nearly six in the morning. There are clocks around the palace. Most people use candles, but I simply possess the insight to know the time wherever I am." 

Clocks? I hadn't seen any. Was she referring to those strange ticking triangles I had seen about? They were never anything I had bothered to focus upon, I figured they were nothing more than exotic decorations. 

"Thanks again." I responded quickly this time, returning her smile. I still felt sour about the night before, but the edge was gone, and with it, the sting. 

"You really should be going now." The guard stated, glancing toward the overcast sky that hid the vivid streaks of gold and sapphire that I had seen the day before. Nodding, I moved away, still mindful of my cramping as I staggered up stone steps toward the broad wooden doors. They led to the throne room, a place I did not want to enter anytime soon.

Instead, I took the door to the left, figuring that it would lead to the house of mania. My interaction with the Dark Seducer reminded me of Wide-Eye's kindness, and I was very acutely aware of how I had treated her the afternoon before. I certainly regretted it. 

I was right about where the door led, and slipped into the colorful crimson hall of Thadon's court, enjoying the warmth that crept into my skin to take the chill of the morning from my mind. 

Nobody was at the grand table, so I walked quickly past it and into the garden through the door at the end of the massive room. It was surprisingly crowded. Golden Saints guarded every corner, and people in colorful, exotic attire relaxed in the sun, dancing, painting, and singing marry tunes. After scanning the area, I quickly found Wide-Eye, sitting near Thadon by a flower with petals of flame. She glanced up at me as I approached, a slight little grin crossing her toothed maw.

"Ah, it is nice to see you again, little one. How are you on this fine morning?" Her voice was just as soothing as it had been the last time we had spoken.

"Hello again." I greeted in response, wringing my hands together with some level of nervousness. "I'm...better, thank you." Starving and aching to death, but mentally better. I didn't say that, though. She probably would have looked at me weird. 

"That is grand news! And do you plan to partake in the Greenmote again? We're having dinner tonight, eight sharp! It'll be a party!" There was excitement in her voice, but I couldn't share it. I wasn't in the mood for a party. Greenmote sounded nice, though, if only I hadn't made a fool of myself the last time I had taken it. 

"I'd rather not participate." I stated flatly, but the argonian was as insistent as ever. 

"Oh, but it will be great fun, little one! An opportunity to relax, sit back, enjoy our lives and all that Mania has to offer us!" There was that word again, 'Mania'. I understood that Thadon was the Duke of Mania, and that I was currently in the Garden of Mania, but what exactly was Mania?

"Can you tell me more about Mania?" I asked as politely as I could. I was always an inquisitive person. Wide-Eye smiled brightly.

"Oh yes, of course, little one! I keep forgetting that you're new here, but nonetheless, I can see it in your eyes! You're one of us, a manic, you see! Not one of those poor demented fellows. Mania is where all the light and color of the world is born! We are people of indulgence and pleasure, as our great saint Arden-Sul displayed the night of his death!" 

I raised my hand as a sign of interruption.

"Arden-Sul?" I questioned in a curious voice. 

"Ooooh, yess, the most manic of them all! Everyone loved him, and his parties too! He was the greatest duke to ever reign over Mania, and his love for Greenmote knew no end! One evening he announced a huge party, everyone was invited, even the peasants! It was a grand affair, all of the guests indulged in the pleasures of greenmote, dancing, song, and sex! So much so, that every guest, including Arden-Sul himself, overdosed on the Greenmote! Their hearts burst, and their naked bodies fell to the floor, painting it with their life blood!" As the argonian spoke, her voice grew louder with glee as if she had been there herself. 

Personally, I was a bit disturbed. A big group of people coming together to die of drug overdose? I had to force myself not to grimace before responding. 

"And what about...Demented, you said?" 

Wide-Eye nodded quickly at my question. 

"Dementia is the opposite of Mania. It is the land of dark thoughts and paranoia. You're not one of them, though, oh no, you're better than that, I can see it, I tell you, see it in your eyes!" She didn't seem to care that she was repeating herself. "And that is why you simply must attend the dinner tonight!" Her scaled hands reached out to grasp mine with insistence. I thought for a moment, unsure of what to say, or what to do. Should I go? Perhaps I should. I deserved a distraction. A distraction from Him, after all he had put me through, that cold bastard. It was decided, then. With a heavy sigh, I nodded. 

"Only if we don't all die." I managed to tease in a weak voice. Wide-Eye chuckled. 

"Don't you worry, little one, few people die from greenmote these days unless intended. I'll make certain you don't overdose." She promised with a twitch of her long, snake-like tail. Suddenly, a question came to mind, as was quite normal for me. Greenmote was a drug, right? 

"What about...addiction?" I inquired, an edge of worry sharpening my tone. 

"No need to worry about that, little one. The chalice will be there. Thadon always brings the chalice! It takes it away, you see, no more addiction so long as there's the chalice!" I had no idea what the chalice was, but I didn't want to ruin our relationship by pushing her with too many questions. I couldn't have if I wanted to, anyways, because at that moment, Duke Thadon had decided to step between us. He gave me only a passing glance before focusing in on Wide-Eye, requesting her to speak with him in privacy. With nobody else to talk to and with no desire to put myself out to the strangers in the garden, I turned to leave. If I was going to attend a party that evening, I wanted to be clean. 

As I had made normal since my arrival, I sprinted through the throne room to avoid catching sight of the mad king, slipping into the royal garden where I was met with a most curious sight. A khajiit of silky blonde hair tended to the blossoms there, her feline tail swishing through warm air. The woman's ear twitched toward my direction before she rose from the dirt to gaze at me with sky blue optics. 

"Hello. You must be the newest servant. Haskill told me about you." Her voice was akin to a purr, sharp teeth flashing as she smiled. I waved, not sure what to say. 

"Who...are you?" I managed to ask, moving closer. 

"My name is Kianni. I'm a servant, too, kind of. Part time, I suppose. I spend a lot of my time adventuring, looking for cool or unusual artifacts. I just got back this morning. It's nice meeting you, though! I love meeting new people." She seemed a bit embarrassed to admit that. I noticed at her hip was a most gorgeous weapon, a silver sword with emerald gems carved into the shining hilt. 

"So...you're like, a treasure hunter?" 

"Sort of. I'm a bit of a mercenary as well, and an explorer. I've been all over the isles, seen all the villages, met all the people. What about you? Where are you from, and what kind of work did you do?" I paused for a minute to consider her question, the memories flooding into my mind like magma, burning my thoughts until tears glazed my eyes. 

"Um..." I began in a voice so small it could barely be heard. The khajiit pricked her ears. "I lived in Cheydinhal with my parents. I...worked at a bookstore, sorting the books, and...stuff." I gulped. 

"So...no action, huh? That's a shame. Well, if you ever want to learn how to swing a sword, just ask! We'd have to start you off with something small, but you look pretty sturdy. Have you seen a scalon, yet?" She patted the scabbard of her weapon as she spoke. 

"A...scalon? N-no. I mean, I haven't even left the palace grounds, yet. I just...got here." I choked on my words, forcing them out. She didn't seem to notice. 

"Oh yeah? Sorry, heh, I've been gone for about a week. So you're still settling in? Nice place so far, isn't it? Sheogorath has never been anything but kind to me, and the palace is beautiful. Anyways, a scalon is a nasty creature. Think about a crocodile, but far stronger, faster, walks on two legs, has claws like a bear, and likes to turn invisible when you fight them. Tough beasts." She chuckled lightly to herself. I, however, was horrified. She had fought these...monsters? And she wanted to teach me how to do it, too? No thanks! I'd rather keep all my limbs. Glancing over her, however, I found not a single scar, but her attire was certainly meant for battle. She wore gleaming chain-mail.

"Would you like to meet my wolf?" Kianni's words yanked me away from my thoughts and my awkward staring. Damn, she was gorgeous. I never thought I’d be interested in cats before, but...my cheeks heated a bit, but I nodded. It wasn't uncommon for folks to have exotic pets, and wolves seemed to be one of the most common. From what I had heard, they were the easiest trained, especially when raised from pups. "His name is Fen. He doesn't bite, though. Unless you're a scalon." The feline chuckled lightly. I smiled a bit, shyly. 

"Sure." With a casual shrug I agreed. I liked wolves. They were beautiful creatures. Kianni led me inside the royal wing of the palace, skipping down the shadowed hallway to the servant's room with her ginger tail dancing behind her, calling out for Fen in a sing song voice. I heard the pawsteps before I saw the beast, and my eyes widened upon first setting my gaze upon the canine. His fur was as silver as the madgod's beard, and his eyes were a piercing cerulean. Each of his paws was the size of my skull, and as he barked happily upon greeting his master, I could see that his two largest incisors were the length of my pinky fingers. I closed my mouth when I realized It was opened in awe. "Come pet him!" Kianni invited, rustling the top of the mighty hound's head with teasing fingers. For a moment, I hesitated. It was certainly powerful, far more so than I. But she had said he didn't bite, right? And I had a soft spot for animals. Cautiously, I walked toward Fen, whispering a greeting in a shaky voice.

I jerked back when it moved quite suddenly for my hand, only to realize that Fen was trying to lick me. With a small smile blossoming upon my lips, I moved forward more confidently, and ran my small hand down it's back. It's fur was as coarse as the bristles on a brush, but I still enjoyed the interaction. 

"And...Fen,...fights with you?" I managed to question, amazed. 

"Oh yes, he follows me everywhere. He's killed his fair share of beasts and there's no greater hunting partner. He took out an armored grummite all by himself yesterday afternoon! Because he's a good boy, aren't you!" Kianni wrapped the wolf in a tight hug as she cooed. "Such a good boy!" 

"What's a grummite?" I interrupted as politely as I could. She looked up and grinned at me. 

"They're like goblins, but amphibious. They look kind of like frogs, but with rows and rows of sharp teeth, and they're somewhat intelligent, too, so they use weapons and wear armor. Not too dangerous by themselves, but they almost always travel in groups." Goblins. I hated those beasts. They had killed by grandfather, tribal little bastards. They were as tall as any man, but far more beastly and savage. If what Kianni said was true and the Grummites were like the Shivering Isles variants of goblins, then I wanted no part of them. 

"Oh." I uttered simply in response, rising to my feet with a stretch that reminded me of how sore I was. "Well...it was nice meeting you but, uh...I kind of want to take a bath." The khajiit nodded with understanding. 

"For the party tonight?" She inquired, and my eyes widened a bit. 

"You're coming, too?" I questioned with a bit of a gasp. 

"Of course! Everyone who's anyone will be there! If you need help putting on a dress, just come find me, I should be around!" I nodded, though I was somewhat sour that she thought I wouldn't be able to dress myself. I was a woman after all. Of course I could put on a dress! 

"Thank you." I managed to say with a smile. "See you tonight." She waved goodbye as I swept around her, giving Fen a pat on the haunches as I passed. I liked Kianni, she seemed fairly nice and her adventures were interesting to hear about. Of course, the fact that she had a wolf pet was an obvious boost to her appeal. 

The servant's room was pleasantly warm when I entered. I ran my fingers through thick hair with a sigh, wondering if the feeling in my stomach was excitement or worry.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A party! A dance! Naked people! No details with that, though.

I was so completely wrong and standing naked, shivering by the fire because, by the Nine, this dress is impossible! Never before in my life have I seen so many strings attached to such fine fabric! 

The dress itself was quite beautiful, minus the difficulty of putting it on. It was as black as an inky midnight and highlighted with soft, sparkling lavender. After forcing myself to dig through my drawers, I found a rather wide variety of clothing, all of which was imbued with some kind of magic that prevented them from getting wrinkled despite their method of storage. That, of course, was wonderful and I couldn't help but wish I had known of such an enchantment at home. It would have made storage much easier. 

With a frustrated sigh I unwrapped the moist towel that had been curled around my hair, wincing as water dripped onto my bare back before I curled myself into the rough fabric. Satisfying appropriate, I stomped out of the servant's quarter and into the long, stone hallway. 

"Umm...Kianni?" I figured she must have been in one of the other rooms. "Remember how you said you'd help me with my dress?" I was a bit embarrassed, of course, and my voice made it painfully obvious. It was made even worse by the fact that the person I saw poke their head out from the dining room was not the friendly, beautiful khajiit (that I might have developed a minor crush on) I had spoken to earlier, but Sheogorath's top notch Chamberlain himself, Haskill. He stepped into the hall with a wave of his hand, as if to direct me back into the room I had come from. 

"Kianni was called to the throne for a moment. She won't be returning in time to assist you, I fear." His voice was as flat as ever. I got the impression that he disliked the simple thought of me, and that the sight of my cold dripping form must have been completely infuriating, but what did I know? His tone was certainly hard to read. His mouth had taken the shape of a firm line and the wrinkles on his slightly blushed cheeks indicated a lifetime of glaring. Still, he moved closer with graceful steps and dark eyes focused on mine. 

"I, however, have more than enough time to spare. Come, I'll show you how to dress. It can take some time to learn, the manics can be quite extravagant." He swept past, wrapping his hand around my arm to tug me along. To be quite honest, I didn't like the man, even though I hardly knew him. I certainly didn't want him helping me dress. 

"I think I can figure it out on my own, thank you." Pulling away, I forced a smile, to which he did not reflect. Haskill raised a brow, wrapping his arms behind his back as if to say 'seriously?’. 

"Ah yes, I had almost forgotten how stubborn you were. Allow me to put it this way; unless you intend to partake in the festivities tonight 'naked', which wouldn't be unusual at all, mind you, I'd suggest allowing me to lend my assistance." There was almost a passive aggressive note somewhere amidst his tone, not quite, but still detectable. I crossed my arms, pressing them tight to my chest to prevent my towel from falling to the floor, and stared hard at the elder imperial (or daedra?) with something akin to annoyance. Of course, there was not much else I could do; he was right, after all. With a nervous twitch of my red hued lips, I relented. 

"Fine." I wasn't happy about it, but then again, he probably wasn't, either. Haskill led me back into the servant's quarters without another word, plucking my dress from where I had left it and untangling the strings I had been toying with in an effort to understand their purpose. 

"Slip it over your head." He held the fine silk out to me with a huff. "Go on, I'm not looking at you. Although why you'd care is beyond me. I assure you, you're the only one in the palace with any sort of modesty at the moment. Madgod forbid you walk into the throne room one day and find one of the manics walking around naked. You might just have a heart attack." There it was again, that sarcasm in his voice. He was being sarcastic and I hated him for it. 

"Well, excuse me for being decent, like a proper lady!" I snapped back, snatching the dress from his fingers and throwing it over my head. I wiggled a bit into the fabric until I was sufficiently covered, and only then did I allow the towel to drop to the floor. 

"You're not being decent, at least not by the Shivering Isles variant of the word. You're just being difficult. Do try to remember that this is not Cyrodiil." There seemed to be such exhaustion in his tone, as if he had spoken those words a thousand times. Perhaps he had. "Now then, this string here goes around your neck..." It took ten minutes just to get the damned thing on, but that was mostly due to the fact that Haskill was walking me through almost every step as if I were a child. Finally, after a few more offensive remarks, we were finished, and I looked quite remarkable. The dress was excellent for my figure, the perfect size. I managed to mumble a salty thank you to the old man as he moved quietly out of the room with his usual scowl. I didn't even care where he was going, so long as it was away from me. Haskill was undeniably rude, and he apparently found no shame in that. Snarky bastard. 

I still hadn't eaten since my arrival, and I had gotten to the point where I felt only dizziness instead of hunger. I had planned to eat at the dinner party, but I feared I'd pass out before I even managed to get there. I hated this fact, as I still wanted some manner of victory over the Madgod, but the body's natural instinct to consume was greater than any amount of willpower I possessed. 

I found a loaf of bread in the kitchen. It was gone in minutes, with only crumbs to prove its former existence. It had been some time since I had actually given myself the pleasure of feeling full, and in the moment, it was indescribable. Now all I had to do was wait for the party to begin, and given that I hadn't had any decent rest the night before, I moved to my bed for a nap. 

It hadn't even felt like more than ten minutes before I felt a hand on my shoulder shake me awake. Heavy lids peeled open to reveal the face of Kianni hovering just above my nose, smiling wickedly. 

"That dress looks wonderful on you." She purred with a wink. "I'm sure the others will agree." I didn't have much of an option after that, the khajiit practically hauled me out of bed, shoving be excitedly toward the exit with a chuckle. "It's party time, babe, get ready to dance!" I rolled my eyes.

"There will be no dancing on my part, trust me." I responded quickly. 

"Hah! That's what they all say. Then He comes in and everyone goes crazy!" She sounded so delighted that she was practically yelling. 

"Who’s He?" Was she talking about Thadon? Kianni didn't answer, simply growling out as hasty "come on!" before dragging me out into the garden. The grass was damp beneath my feet, and a slight drizzle fell from dark clouds. I hesitated at the door to the throne room, but Kianni wasn't having that, forcing me through the door with a hiss of laughter. As usual, I dared not glance at the Madgod, but instead ducked quickly into the house of mania, where I was met with the savory smell of fresh food and the melodic tune of a piano. Voices chattered excitedly, giggles echoing through the grand crimson hall. It was fairly crowded, and the table had been greatly extended. I noticed, off to the side, that there were several artists displaying their works and given that such things were more my tempo, I immediately set my course for their position. Luckily, Kianni had skipped off toward the other side of the room, so I didn't have any worries of being interrupted. 

As I drew closer, a Wood Elf stared me down with emerald eyes, a soft smile gracing his lips. "Ah! A fellow art enthusiast, I see! Welcome, welcome! My name is Kaspen." He gestured me closer, and I grinned at him as I approached. "This is one of my finest pieces!" Kaspen pointed toward a canvas set upon a stage, delight in his eyes when I moved to examine it. Amidst a rainbow sky was a brain, covered in blood, and impaled within the flesh was a dagger of pure gold. The sight was...somewhat disturbing, but I immediately went through the effort of trying to determine the meaning behind it. Kaspen, however, had other plans. 

"It's the light of madness, piercing the mind of someone who has never experienced it before, and exposing all the glorious color in their brain to the world around them! Isn't it beautiful?" His teeth were a noticeably brilliant shade of white as he grinned broadly toward me. I nodded in awkward agreement before moving on. 

The next stand had an even less appealing sight. Against a soft, silvery blue background was the Madgod himself in regal clothing, sitting astride an ivory unicorn with eyes like the moon. I moved quickly past it and the Dark Elf that was the artist, realizing that none of the art present was really my style. Some of it was actually quite gruesome, so I made my way toward the buffet table instead, praying that there wasn't something akin to human flesh on the plates there. It wouldn't be surprising, and that was the most frightening thing about the thought. There were probably actual cannibals in the room with me at that very moment, and for all I knew, their horrific craft was perfectly acceptable among the madmen of the Isles. Hell, Sheogorath probably encouraged such barbaric behavior if only to amuse himself with the screams of innocent victims. 

I noticed that there was no greenmote outwardly available anywhere that I could see, so I figured that it must be planned for a later event. I did, however, set my eyes upon a particularly appealing piece of what looked like blueberry pie. I swiftly took a slice for myself and discovered that I had been correct. The treat tasted simply divine with every bite. As I enjoyed my sugary treat, the rumble of thunder shook the palace, quickly accompanied by the pattering of harsh rain. Almost instantly, I wanted to sleep. A good storm was the perfect napping weather. Humming with satisfaction, I found myself a seat near the door the garden to watch the proceedings around me. 

After about a half hour, there was an odd change in events. Thadon emerged, though I almost didn't recognize him, given his lack of attire. In fact, he was completely, utterly naked. Both men, women, and everyone else shouted their desire. I, however, was quite disturbed. I almost choked on the raspberry wine a servant had passed to me minutes earlier, cheeks heating as I hastily looked away. Anywhere, really, where the Duke was not in my line of sight. I suppose I should have expected something crazy to happen, given the way Haskill had spoken to me earlier. By the Nine, there went my desire to eat.

Soon, others followed, removing their clothes to swing around Duke Thadon with delight in their eyes. It was at his command that everyone move outside into the palace courtyard, as there was hardly any room to dance in the crowded dining hall. Within just ten minutes, the building had emptied out as many of the partiers left to dance in the rain. 

"Aren't you going to dance, little one?" I flinched at the sound of Wide-Eye at my shoulder. I hadn't heard her approach. 

"No way. I'm not a dancer. And Thadon is..." I hesitated, not wishing to offend the argonian. Much to my disappointment, she quickly filled in the gap with her own opinion.

"A most wonderful man!" A soft chuckle fell past her forked tongue. "He's quite brilliant, and his dancing is as graceful as a swan. You really should go out there and join him!" She grinned kindly at me, wrapping a clawed hand around my arm. I shook my head.

"Like I said, not a dancer." Lightly, I tugged myself free.

"Oh, but you are! I've seen it, little one, you move with talent!" Wide-Eye was recalling my run-in with greenmote, no doubt. The thought made me frown. 

"That wasn't the real me." I insisted, crossing my arms over my chest with a sigh.

"Of course it was! The greenmote always shows our true colors. Let me go and get you some, you'll be feeling better in no time at all, little one, no time!" With that, the reptilian woman was off, sweeping through the arching hall to who knows where. I leaned back against the wall and played with my thumbs, wondering if I should stick around or flee while I could. The euphoria of my last greenmote trip reminded me of how much I wanted more of it. It had been a break from all the pain. It had hidden the memories. It had made me feel happy again, for the first time in weeks.

Wide-Eye had said the drug wasn't physically addictive due to Thadon's chalice, but psychologically...it was all I ever wanted and more. When Wide-Eye returned with the emerald substance at hand, I took it with a smile, and swallowed it down, even though I knew I shouldn’t.

It wasn't me that was dancing, skin slick with rain, it was it. It was the greenmote. I could see it through my eyes, but my body moved with a grace that did not belong to me. Kianni grinned, fangs gleaming, her clawed hands in the folds of my fingers. She swung me around and I giggled with glee, but it wasn't mine. It wasn't real, no matter how much I wanted it to be. I was trapped in the illusionary grip of a euphoric drug, and it would be some time yet before it released its hold. 

The evening passed by in a blur, with only some parts apparent. My dance with Kianni, my dinner with Wide-Eye, my wild painting of a fairy spriggen with a sleek dark elf stranger. And then there was Him. 

At first I had thought it was Thadon, but in the haze of the greenmote, that didn't matter. I turned and saw the face of Sheogorath instead, dressed in a regal suit of vibrant gold and purple. It still didn't matter. He asked for a dance with a charming little grin. He had smelled of brown sugar and cinnamon, and I had been amazed.

"How did you make yourself smell like cinnamon?" I had asked, my words slurred, my movements uncoordinated. He took me by the wrist and pulled me closer.

"The realm does what I want it to do." The Madgod responded in a voice of smooth silk, cheeks wrinkling with a soft chuckle. "This is my realm, after all. My rules." His usual loud and boisterous voice had taken a mysterious change. It was almost gentle, pleased. I couldn't put it together at the time. I knew only the pleasure of the moment.

“This is the real you, lass. I’ll make sure you remember that.” Sheogorath spoke with obvious approval. His hair was slicked back with the rain, but the water didn’t seem to so much as touch the extravagant suit he wore. 

Now, though, as I came down from my high, I look back on the moment and seethed. He had made sure I’d remember every little detail. I had told myself that I would never take another dose of greenmote, but with the weakness of a mortal mind, I gave in to desire. Sheogorath had won. I curled into the sheets of my bed, exhausted and wet with tears. I never should have agreed to go to that party. I never should have tried to be happy again. I should never have even considered such an idea

_This is the real you, lass._ His voice echoed through my mind. He was wrong.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hear ye, hear ye, all who have entered here seeking a cruel and evil Sheogorath should turn back now. You will not find what you seek.

Another nightmare. My father, reaching out to me, apologizing, begging for my forgiveness. I sobbed, called for him to come closer, but he didn’t move. Couldn’t move. And neither could I. There was something lingering at the edge of my vision. It appeared suddenly, and when I turned to look, I thought I saw two golden eyes peering at my frame. Then the dream shifted with a peaceful warmth. I was walking beneath a sky streaked in vibrant pink, starlight glittering, dancing overhead. I had never seen a sky so beautiful. A gentle wind rustled my hair, the breeze smelled of cinnamon, and brown sugar. 

I woke gently. I had finally gotten a good night’s sleep. I wanted to smile, but my face twisted with agitation when I realized what had happened. Sheogorath had invaded my dream. He had changed it. Those eyes...it had to have been Him. But why would he do such a thing? It was a trick, I told myself. He was trying to make me feel safe when I wasn’t. Not in the slightest. 

A figure moved at the edge of my gaze, and I took note of Haskill lingering nearby, staring at me intently with glimmering brown eyes that shone in the firelight. 

“Our Lord Sheogorath has commanded your presence in the throne room.” His flat tone entered my ears. “Though what he wants with you, I can’t imagine.” Was that sarcasm? Again? I passed the man a frown. But one thing was certain. I had been avoiding the throne room so far, and I had every intention of continuing to do so. 

“Tell Sheogorath I have no interest in seeing him.” I spoke harshly, a biting tone, a coldness in my words. But underneath was fear. Anxiety. What could Sheogorath possibly want from me?

“I’m afraid that isn’t an option. You see, you weren’t given a choice, and I suggest you don’t defy our Lord. Unless you want to agitate him. I wouldn’t advise that.” Haskill responded sharply. I thought to myself for a moment, considering my options. I really didn’t want to annoy Sheogorath, that was for certain. Perhaps he’d torment me, hurt me, end my life and trap my soul in some terrible place. 

“Fine.” I finally responded, marching past Haskill and out of the room. I could hear his footsteps behind me, and I knew he was following, returning to his master like some dog. As I entered the throne room, I kept my eyes on my feet, and stood at the edge of Sheogorath’s vision.

“Come closer, lass. I won’t bite ya.” The Madgod promised with a low chuckle. I didn’t believe a word of it, but I shifted down the steps that led onto the carpet and approached. “There you are. Good.” A few rumbling words of approval that she didn’t want to hear. A trick. It was all a trick. “Sit.” Came the sudden command. It was firm, but not unkind. It was inviting. I glanced around, and found only a single chair to the right of the throne. Haskill had taken his place there. On the left side of the throne were a few soft looking pillows. Sheogorath pointed his finger at them, and I had my orders, so I settled down upon the pillows, and didn’t dare say a word. 

I didn’t know how long I sat there in silence. Sheogorath and Haskill discussed the realm in idle conversation. What the weather would be like tomorrow, how warm he should make the wind. The farmer’s crops were growing well in the weather the Madgod had so thoughtfully provided. 

That was when the man entered. A black haired figure of slender stature. He looked angry. His eyes were narrowed into a glare.

“You drove her mad.” The accusation flew from the man’s lips.

“Who? Yer daughter? Heh. She was already mad. Or growing mad. Born mad, really. Not my doing. It’s in your family history, lad. Don’t you remember? Yer mother? Yer grandfather? That’s the natural way of things.” Sheogorath’s voice was humorous, but there was a seriousness about his tone. “You should accept her the way she is. There’s nothing wrong with her. You, on the other hand! Marchin’ into _my_ throne room with such accusations. I should skin ya alive.” 

“ _You_ drove her mad. I know it! It’s your fault! Turn her back! Make her sane!” The man snarled. I wondered why he couldn’t understand that there was nothing wrong with his daughter. She was just the way she was. Sheogorath was right. The man should accept her as she was meant to be. 

In an instant, his attention shifted to me. I gulped as he stared me down. 

“And who is this? Your new pet? She looks pitiful. And how could I forget your faithful chamberlain. As much a loyal _dog_ as he ever could be.” It was true. I did look pitiful, with my eyes averted to the floor, anxiety crossing my face. Sheogorath’s mood shifted, then. He stood from his throne, and took a step closer. The man quickly realized his mistake, eyes widening, he fled the palace. The guards let him go, presumably because they had been given no orders not to. 

In a flash of purple light, she was engulfed in sparkling butterflies. A jolt of dizziness overtook her as she appeared beside Sheogorath and Haskill in the courtyard, at the top of the steps. The man was fleeing at a swift pace down the stairs. Then, he fell. It looked almost as if he had been pushed, but there hadn’t been a single soul nearby. Sheogorath had done it then, she figured. He had used magic. The man tumbled down the stairs, hitting the stone bottom roughly. Weakly, with a groan, he found his feet again, and retreated with a limp through the door leading to Crucible. Sheogorath’s expression was stormy, but he allowed the man his life. I could hardly believe that the Madgod himself was capable of such mercy. 

“It would seem you have another visitor.” Haskill commented as another male entered the courtyard through the door to Bliss. Seeing Sheogorath leaning against his cane at the top of the steps, the man threw himself into a desperate sprint. He looked terrified, and as he drew close enough to be heard through panting breath, I understood why. 

“My Lord. My wife is having a child, but something’s gone terribly wrong. She’s dying. Please, help her!” He spoke in a desperate, pleading tone. 

Sheogorath looked thoughtful for a moment, humming to himself in audible contemplation. I wondered if Sheogorath would really allow this woman to die. He turned his head, and gave me a disapproving look before his face flashed with his decision. 

“Alright, I’ll help you. I’ve nothin’ else to do today, except perhaps dance beneath the mushroom trees. Oh! And enjoy a nice serving of brain pie. Lovely little treat, that is.” The Madgod looked cheerful as he thought about his plans for the day. I, however, found myself a bit anxious. Brain pie? Did he mean...person brains? By the Nine, I hoped not. 

In an instant, a flash of light, a swirl of starry butterflies, they were in a room that smelled of blood, the husband hurrying to his wife’s side. Blood soaked the bed sheets that a weak woman laid upon. The husband looked toward Sheogorath with pitiful eyes that screamed for help, and the Madgod shifted slowly toward the woman’s side. Gently, he pressed a hand to her forehead, a lavender light emerging from his fingertips. It spread throughout her body, and with a jerk, the woman dragged a desperate breath into her lungs, as if she had been holding her breath for hours. She pushed with all her might, and the cry of a child echoed throughout the room. The woman’s eyes, dull with pain, drifted closed. For a moment, I thought she was dead, but the steady rise and fall of her chest said otherwise. She was sleeping. Exhausted. 

“She’ll be just fine.” Sheogorath assured as a healer cleansed the child, wrapping her (as it was a young girl) in a soft blanket. Shortly afterward, Sheogorath wandered closer, peering with gentle eyes at the little creature that had been delivered just minutes before. Much to my shock and fear, he reached out, and took the child from the healer’s arms. The healer didn’t seem to mind, and the husband didn’t either, though he hovered nearby with a relieved and tired smile. After a moment of curious staring, Sheogorath handed the baby off to her father, a pleased grin gracing his lips. 

“Thank you. Thank you.” The husband extended his gratitude toward the Madgod. Sheogorath merely tilted his head in acceptance of the thanks, before he flashed away in a vibrant ray of purple light, along with myself. I wondered why I had been brought along at all. Was Sheogorath trying to prove something to me? 

When we arrived back in the throne room, Haskill was in his chair, clearly curious as to what had happened. Sheogorath was quick to discuss it with him, expressing what appeared to be happiness at the thought that a child had been born safely into _his_ realm. Eventually, I tuned the pair out. I didn’t know how long I had been sitting there, before a hand drifted into view. Sheogorath offered something I had seen before, but had never eaten. A brightly colored fruit. Only then did I realize how hungry I was. I didn’t complain as I took the fruit from his fingers and brought it to my mouth. 

“Why don’t you go get some rest, lass. It’s getting a bit late.” Sheogorath suggested shortly after I finished my meal. I got the feeling it was less of a suggestion, and more of a command. Anxiously, I stood from my spot on the soft pillows, and slipped back into the royal wing of the palace to find my bed, warmed by the heated air and just waiting for my presence. As I laid there, I found myself confused. Sheogorath was acting entirely different from anything I had imagined of him. I was determined to believe that it was all just a trick, that he had only helped that woman to lull me into a false sense of security. That was the last thing I thought about before drifting into a dreamless sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for a bit of torture, nothing too detailed.

The next morning, after eating a bread loaf and cheese for breakfast, I slipped out into the throne room. Although I felt a bit more confident entering the grand hall than I had ever felt before, I still tried to hurry my way through. I wanted to visit Wide-Eye, and I wondered where Kianni had run off to.

That was when I saw them, out of the corner of my eye. Sheogorath was standing, with his arms wrapped around...a _woman_. There was a sight I never thought I’d ever see. Was he even capable of love? Affection? The dunmer pressed her lips to his, before shifting her head to peer at me with curious eyes.

“And who is this?” The woman questioned. There was a certain danger to her tone, and I knew instantly, this woman was lethal. I had no desire to experience her potential cruelty.

“ _Relmyna_.” Sheogorath practically purred, bringing her attention back to him. I was grateful for that. Whatever they said next, I couldn’t hear, as I hurried quickly to the house of Mania. 

Wide-Eye was sitting at the table, in deep conversation with a Nord I recognized from my visits, though I had yet to hear his name. He had always offered me cheery and polite greetings, but little more. 

“I saw her. Here. In the garden, at night! With Thadon!” Wide-Eye practically hissed. I didn’t know she was capable of such a harsh tone. “Syl. I swear it!” The argonian’s teeth flashed, as if with disapproval, or disgust. Syl...I knew Syl. She was the Duchess of Dementia, though I had never met her. What could she have possibly wanted with Duke Thadon? 

“You’ve heard the rumors, surely.” The nord responded with a huff. 

“They’re horrid. Thadon would never! He’s a great man. He wouldn’t dare let Syl touch him.” Wide-Eye sounded defensive, in denial. I wondered, with curious thoughts, if there was more to this apparent sighting of Syl in Thadon’s garden late at night.

That was when he entered the room, the Duke himself. Wide-Eye and the nord silenced themselves immediately, before the argonian rose from her seat. 

“I do hope you had a wonderful rest.” She spoke brightly, as if she hadn’t just been talking about a potential love affair between Thadon and Syl. But the bosmer gave her only a passing glance, his sights lingering upon me. That was strange. He had never paid me any mind before. Quietly, the Duke approached, and handed me a sealed letter. Leaning close, he whispered into my ear.

“This letter goes straight to Syl. Tell no one.” Thadon moved away after that, as if nothing had happened. I held the letter in my hand, but it seemed the other members of the court had not even taken notice of the interaction that had just occurred. For a moment, I had no idea what to do, but Thadon was a Duke, and I was, technically, classified as a servant, even if Sheogorath had never really asked me to do anything for him. That meant, of course, that Thadon had more authority than me. Would I be punished if I disobeyed?

Sighing to myself, and practically trembling at the thought of visiting the paranoid house of Dementia, I slipped back into the throne room. I kept my head down, but I could feel Sheogorath’s piercing gaze upon me as I crossed the throne room. Whatever was going on between Syl and Thadon, I had little doubt that the Madgod was very much aware of it. Perhaps that was why, when I dared take a peek at him, he was smirking so deviously. I took notice that Relmyna was gone. Where she went, I had no desire to know. I just hoped I didn’t find her in the royal wing tonight. She looked dangerous, and her eyes...they had been intense in their study of me. It made me quite uncomfortable. 

I hesitated at the door to Syl’s court, uttering a heavy sigh. Tense in preparation for any sort of attack, for I had heard how dangerous this court could be, I slipped into the room. Syl was sitting on her own little throne, the shadows of the room dancing in blue firelight. Immediately, her head snapped up at me, staring me down with suspicious eyes. 

“Who are you? State your name and business. Now.” Syl’s demand was harsh and biting. I was quick to respond, nearly tripping over my words.

“Thadon told me to deliver this message to you.” I hastily spoke.

“Oh?” She turned toward her personal guard, a dark seducer. “Go and bring me that letter. And _you_ , don’t take another step closer.” She addressed me with a dangerous voice. The dark seducer slipped forward with grace, and I couldn’t help but admire her beauty. Gently, the daedra took the sealed letter that I held out for her.

“Leave, now. Your business here has concluded.” Syl spoke firmly to me. Without needing another word, I hurried back out and into the throne room. And saw a horrific sight. 

Sheogorath looked terrifying. Claws arched from his fingertips, fangs glinting in the firelight, eyes of piercing, glacial blue. A color I had never seen them before. In his shadow was a man, on his knees, and looking defiant. He spat at the Madgod’s feet.

“You’ve killed six of my worshipers. Burned them alive. One was just a child.” Sheogorath was growling, a voice as dark as the night and as cold as the grave. “I had you brought to my realm to face these charges. Defend yourself, if you want. It won’t change your fate.” 

“Your people are insane.” The man spoke harshly. “They kill and torture innocent people! I’ve done nothing wrong.” He sounded equally firm, matching Sheogorath’s gaze without hesitance. I shifted uncomfortably. Would Sheogorath show this man the same mercy he had shown the one who had accused him of driving his daughter insane? But Sheogorath's appearance was feral and cruel, and I immediately knew the answer to my own question.

“None of the people you killed had ever hurt so much as a fly.” Sheogorath snapped. “You slaughtered them all. The whole shrine. They had committed no crimes that would make your actions justified. _You killed them because it amused you."_

“And you don’t kill innocent people? Torture them? Drive them mad? You can’t stand there and act like you’re some benevolent god.” The man spat. “You’re not. You’re a monster.”

“ _You know absolutely nothing about me you ignorant little fool._ But don’t worry, I’m goin’ to teach you a lesson you’ll _never_ forget.” A cold chuckle slithered into the open air, but there was no humor in it, and I trembled with realization. This man was going to die, and it would be in the most painful way possible. “You burned six of my people alive. So you will suffer just as they did. I will kill you six times over.”

That got a reaction out of the man. His eyes widened with the realization of what was about to happen to him.

“Beg, if you want. It won’t change a thing.” Sheogorath spoke harshly. 

The man knew pleading would earn him nothing. So he broke down instead, a sobbing mess on the floor. 

The fire started beneath him, and in an instant it engulfed his figure, and he _screamed_. When it was over, he laid in a charred mess on the floor. But it would seem Sheogorath wasn’t finished. No, he was true to his word. In his realm, every soul belonged to him, and he could do with them what he pleased. Without hesitation, the man rose from the floor, his body restored, breath returned to his lungs.

And then he was burned again. Six times. I counted. And I was burned too. Not by the flames, but by the sight of the torture. It was burned into my _mind_. The screams echoed through my head, even after the final death, as the charred corpse turned to ashes on the floor. Sheogorath’s expression was still stormy and wild, and when he looked at me, those punishing eyes pierced my soul. Trembling, I fled to my bed.

I fell asleep almost immediately. Strange. Some force had slipped into my mind like a warm, soothing blanket.

The next morning, I couldn’t remember why I had been so upset in the first place. I couldn’t remember the flames at all.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A dance, a friend, a kiss, and one angry Relmyna.

“Salutations lass! A fine morning to ya.” Sheogorath’s chipper voice rang through my ears as I ducked through the throne room, passing him only a half anxious glance before dipping into the house of Mania. As usual, Wide-Eye was present, but she looked almost depressed, which was, of course, incredibly unusual, and not at all in character. Looking up at me with reptilian eyes of emerald green, she offered only a faint smile of greeting.

“What’s wrong?” I questioned, curiosity bursting within my own mind. 

“Oh, it’s terrible! The chalice has been stolen!” Wide-Eye’s gaze shifted toward the floor as she spoke. “Such a terrible thing. Thadon doesn’t deserve this. It was Syl! I know it was. That must have been why she was prowling the garden the other night.” A hiss danced amidst her tone, angry words meant for attentive ears. 

“I’m sorry. That’s horrible.” I certainly sounded sympathetic. Without the chalice, there would be no more greenmote. Well, at least not without some terrible form of addiction, or so I assumed. I offered the argonian my hand, giving her a gentle pat on the shoulder, as if that would bring some amount of comfort. Wide-Eye seemed to appreciate the gesture.

“I’m sorry, little one. I don’t really feel like talking today. I’ll be out in the garden, if you need me.” The argonian spoke with solemn words. I gave her a nod as she turned away, and headed into the court’s vibrant garden.

Slipping back into the throne room, I was intent on finding my way out into the courtyard to enjoy the comfortable weather, but I found Sheogorath deep in chipper conversation with Haskill instead. Figuring it wasn’t my business, I began to move away, only for the Madgod to wave me over with a mere glance of his fierce golden eyes. 

“Come sit, lass.” Sheogorath ordered cheerily, and I, of course, had little choice but to obey. I approached the throne, Haskill’s eyes upon me, noting how they didn’t carry their typically bored light. No, there was something lively dancing within those orbs. Something I didn’t know the man was capable of. I took my seat on the pillows next to the throne, and listened intently as Sheogorath resumed the conversation.

“I’m just so happy, I could burst! I mean, sure, killin’ the Gatekeeper isn’t all that great, but the feat of it! He’s certainly champion material, and we can always get a new Gatekeeper later.” The Madgod hummed with certainty. “Although sooner is much better than later, in this case. Not everyone should just be able to waltz into me land. Some people just don’t belong here. You understand, of course.” Sheogorath gestured with his hands as he spoke, and Haskill nodded.

“Of course, my Lord.” The tone was as bored as ever, but even I could notice the spark of excitement within his words. 

“We’ll have to send him off to xedilian as soon as he gets here. Get that facility back up and running.” The Madgod seemed to speak mostly to himself in that moment. “Shame there’s so many grummites there now. But if our lovely mortal friend and save all of Cyrodiil and kill our Gatekeeper, I doubt a few little creatures will do him any harm.” 

I was hesitant to speak up, but my curiosity got the best of me. 

“Who’s the Gatekeeper?” I inquired gently, almost inaudible, quiet voice slithering past my lips. Sheogorath shifted his head to stare down at me with a small smile.

“He guards the gates of madness. Or he did, anyways. Before you ask, curious little friend, the gates are my first line of defense against the unwanted folks that go about their miserable lives in Cyrodiil. I opened a door, you see, right near Bravil. But not everyone’s welcome. Some people are terribly rude! And would do nothing more than disturb my subjects. Which is why getting xedilian up and running again is of the utmost importance! Haskill, make sure our new champion knows the way to New Sheoth.” Sheogorath spoke smoothly. In an instant, Haskill was gone in a swirl of purple light. 

Leaving me alone with Sheogorath. 

“Ya know, yer a good lass.” The Madgod began, reaching over the arm of his throne to give my head a pat. I didn’t like that. Not one bit. Flinching away, though Sheogorath didn’t seem to mind in the slightest, I shifted uncomfortably. 

Then I heard the purring. It was a low rumble in the depths of his chest, and when I looked up at the king to investigate, my eyes widened with shock. Gone was the elderly man with a silvery beard. In his place was a feline, a grey furred khajiit with fiery, piercing eyes. Daggers for pupils shifted toward me as a gentle smile danced across a feline maw. Those sharp pupils, as they settled upon me, widened into onyx pools. Suddenly, the cat was standing, silvery tail swishing behind him as he rose from his throne, one ear twitching. Turning to me, he spoke through his rumbling purr.

“Let's go take a walk.” Sheogorath grinned, stained, yellowed fangs glinting in the firelight. I found myself in an uncomfortable position. It sounded more like a suggestion than an order, one that I could confuse, but, by the Nine, Sheogorath was watching me so intently, and those eyes were piercing my mind. I knew he could hear me. But did he understand my struggle? I didn’t like him very much, but I also didn’t want to agitate him. “I’ll show you Mania.” Sheogorath offered with a flick of his long furred tail.

I _did_ want to see Mania. I had heard about how beautiful it was. Nodding a bit with hesitance, I rose to my feet, nearly tripping over the pillows I had been sitting on, swallowing nervously. Then the butterflies flashed before my gaze, sparkling like lavender stars as we were engulfed, until we stood in emerald grass surrounded by scarlet hued poppies. A vast mushroom tree with a golden cap cast a shadow across our figures, as a blue sky streaked in gold showered the landscape with sunless light. 

Sheogorath gripped his cane with gentle fingers, leaning against the carved and polished wood as I stared with wonder at the landscape around me. A field stretched between the pink flowered shrubs, a few butterflies drifting across the petals of vibrant flowers. Suddenly, Sheogorath was brushing past me, a small smile etched upon his maw. He took my hand, and led me out into the field. Confused, I allowed him to touch me without pulling away, though I was very much aware of the discomfort that had settled within my gut. That was when it happened, the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Sheogorath released me, took a few steps away, and twirled in a circle, his cane brushing through the emerald grass. A swarm of butterflies erupted from the earth, twirling and dancing around his figure, glowing with vibrant illumination. I could only imagine what they looked like at night. 

Sheogorath gestured me closer. I don’t quite remember how it happened, but as my worries were swiped from my mind by the sight of the butterflies, I found myself twirling and dancing with them, each step unleashing more of the fluttering creatures into the warm atmosphere. Sheogorath was dancing too, though he stayed well out of my way. Soon, the swarm grew so intense that I could hardly see past my own nose. I twirled, whirled, danced, raised my hands and reached for the sky, the insects brushing softly past my fingertips. 

Then I bumped into something sturdy and solid. I knew who it was. Reality returned to me, and I found myself turning slowly, hesitantly, to face him. The swarm dissipated, and Sheogorath stared down at me with warm eyes, a pleasant smile twisting his facial features. 

Maybe he wasn’t all bad. I still hated him. I doubt that would ever change. But perhaps I had misjudged him. Just a little. It was okay to admit that, wasn’t it? 

Gently, I smiled back. 

When we returned to the palace in a flash of violet light, I found myself in quite the good mood. It improved when I noticed Kianni, the golden furred khajiit, sitting upon the throne with a flick of her tail. She smiled brightly, beaming at both me and Sheogorath as we approached. 

Until she wasn’t there anymore. One moment she was on the throne, and the next, she was flat on her tail in the middle of the room.

“You know, for one so handsome, you’re a huge ass.” Kianni purred toward Sheogorath as she rose painfully from the floor. Sheogorath took his place on the throne, and passed her a smirk.

“You should watch where yer sitting, lass. Next time you might find yerself on a seat full of thorns.” The Madgod chuckled lightly. Kianni turned to me, then, her features light and cheery, her eyes, by the Nine they were pretty, the most intense I had ever seen them. 

“You’re looking at me with the same blush on your cheeks as last time. Except you don’t have the fur to hide it.” Kianni teased. Then she leaned forward, and before I could react, brushed her rough, feline tongue across the top of my forehead. Immediately my cheeks reddened. I didn’t dislike it, but I certainly hadn’t expected it. The low chuckle of Sheogorath reminded me that there was a spectator in the room, and now my cheeks felt even hotter.

The slamming of a door made all three of our heads snap up. I turned, and saw a familiar sight storming toward the throne. It was none other than Relmyna herself, expression furious. I stayed well out of her way.

“He killed him! He killed our child!” The dunmer snarled as she approached a rather confused looking Sheogorath. The silver furred Madgod met her gaze with intensity. Relmyna didn’t seem to mind the fact that he had transformed into a khajiit. In fact, she didn’t so much as blink. The king’s tail twitched as he spoke. 

“We have a child? Oh dear me, I should really pay more attention to these things. I suppose it was inevitable, though, after all the times we-”

Relmyna cut him off. I was a bit thankful for that, I wasn’t certain I wanted to hear Sheogorath finish that sentence. 

“The Gatekeeper!” Relmyna hissed. “Don’t tell me you forgot about our Gatekeeper?” She was seething, but it didn’t seem directed at the Madgod himself. I did have a guess at to who that anger was meant for, though. The supposed champion. 

“Oh. OH! Hah, well what do ya know, we do have a child! How’s the big lad gettin’ along?” Then his face twisted, from its cheery expression to something more sorrowful. “Oh, he’s dead. Hm, well, these things happen. I’m sorry, dear.” Sheogorath frowned.

“I want them dead. Whoever did this, I want them. Bring them to me. I’ll make sure they regret what they’ve done!” Relmyna growled, her voice was vicious. Kianni didn’t so much as flinch beside me, but I did. The golden furred khajiit pressed her side to mine, as if sensing my discomfort. 

“Now now, Relmyna, let’s not get too hasty. We’ll rebuild the Gatekeeper! Better than ever, I promise. But there’s a Greymarch on the horizon! And I need a champion. Who better than the fellow who could slay such a creature? And not just that. I know the lad. He’s the champion of Cyrodiil, you know. Helped that Martin fellow stop Dagon! Surely you can see his usefulness, love?” The Madgod was back to his chipper self in an instant, but Relmyna was having none of it.

“No, he doesn’t deserve to be your champion. Not after what he did to us. To our child. Why don’t you understand that?” The dunmer hissed.

“Tell ya what, love. If he turns out to be a stick in the mud with no real usefulness to me at all, I’ll send him your way! Prince’s honor.” Rising from his throne, he leaned close to the woman, and planted a kiss to her cheek. “I need a champion, and he fits the bill.” Sheogorath spoke more quietly that time, gentle. 

Relmyna huffed with agitation. She wasn’t happy, but she no doubt realized that nothing she could say would change the Madgod’s mind. Turning on her heel, she stormed out of the palace.

I barely noticed when Sheogorath’s attention returned to Kianni and myself. 

“Enjoy the show?” Sheogorath inquired. He didn’t _sound_ irritated, but I didn’t want to risk it. 

“I’m going out again.” Kianni spoke into my ear. “See you soon, okay?” 

I nodded, before slipping around the throne, and taking my place on the pillows at Sheogorath’s side. Nothing else of interest happened that day, and the Madgod remained silent, leaving me to wonder, what was a Greymarch?


End file.
